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How I Survived My Rape at Baylor

My name is Cailin. I’m in my junior year studying marketing. I absolutely love Baylor, it is the place I call home. I am 20 years old, but I feel like I am 50. I was raped my first semester as a freshman. And this is my story.

I came to Baylor from Kansas City, Missouri. I had been raised to know to abstain from sex until marriage, to not get drunk at college parties. By October 20th, 2013, I had done one, and had the other become transformed into a vicious attack. It was Homecoming, a huge tradition shared by universities across the nation, and an even bigger tradition at Baylor. I had planned in advance to go to all the events with my friends, and to go to certain parties at night. I knew my rapist on only one prior occasion, that past Friday, and thought he was harmless. I soon came to learn that he was everything but that.

We went to a frat party, and I was drinking everything in sight. He was handing me drink after drink, and before I knew it I had become the most drunk I had ever been in my life. He was comfortably sober. I remember getting into his friend’s car and they drove my friends and I back to the dorm. I stumbled to the back stairwell of the building to avoid the person at the front desk. I would have given anything now to have gotten in trouble for drinking. But we made it to the stairwell. I don’t remember him following me up four flights of stairs, but I do remember him opening my door. I stumbled inside, and went to the bathroom- oblivious of his presence. I climbed in my bed, ready to go to sleep. He climbed in my bed. He started kissing me and taking off my clothes. I let him, but once I knew what he really wanted, I started telling him “no”. I said it over and over. He didn’t listen. He knew what he was doing, what he wanted. I waited until he was finished, and until he fell asleep. I counted the minutes as his breathing slowed, and after about 10 minutes, I knew I could escape. I slowly slid out of my bed, grabbing any clothes that I saw, and left the room. I called a friend and told her what had happened. My head was spinning, and I was in shock. I managed to close my eyes as I attempted to sleep in a study room on a different floor and waited until 8am.

I texted a friend that I needed him out of my room as soon as possible. I didn’t tell her why. When he was gone, I went back to my room to find blood all over the sheets, and on the wall. I tried to clean up the mess the best I could, but ended up throwing away my comforter.

I didn’t shower. I remembered from all the crime shows that you weren’t supposed to so that there would be more evidence. I knew from the start that if I was going to fight this, I would need every scrape of proof to back up my story. To this day, I don’t know how I was able to make the decisions that led up to reporting the assault and going to the hospital. I must have had a twenty-four hour window before everything truly set in.

My mind wouldn’t turn off. I was still in shock, and even more confused on how terrible that experience was. I went to our parking garage and cried for about two hours. Another friend then tried to call me, knowing something was wrong. I finally let her know that something was indeed wrong, and she told me to come to her room. I told her everything, and we came up with a plan on what to do. Tell my CL, go the police, get counseling. Simple, right? No.

When I told my CL, she was supportive and comforting in every way. She even came with me to the police station and sat with me while they fired question after question.

The police station is where things got extremely difficult. As my memory started unblocking the events of that night, I shut down to feel no emotion. I felt like my soul had been separated from me as questions were asked. The police were great in the beginning- there was sympathy, understanding and kind words. Then as the questioning proceeded, they started getting annoyed at my misunderstanding as they threw legal terms that went right over my head. It was hard enough to form a sentence, and harder to try and understand what they were talking about. When it came time for me to decide what I exactly wanted, they told me what each scenario meant. If I went to the hospital, got the SANE exam, and filed for a case, this would be a long process, but one where I would go to court and he would be punished. If I wanted to report anonymously, I would only be evidence if another girl got raped and she decided to report it. And of course there was the option that I could not report it at all and just go to the hospital.

I decided to go to court. There was no way that I was going to let him walk freely so he could tear someone else’s life apart. I asked questions regarding the strength of my case, and this is where the police made their first big mistake. They blamed me for everything. If I hadn’t been drinking…or wearing what I was wearing…or kissing him back…this wouldn’t have happened. I have the Baylor Police Department to thank for years of guilt that still hasn’t ceased in believing the lie that this wasn’t my fault.

After the questioning, I got taken to the hospital. There, I would meet a horrible advocate, and a stone-cold nurse. I got taken into a room where I waited for the nurse. The advocate would attempt at conversation, and then before I knew it blamed me for her lost sleep. In the matter of two hours, I was being blamed for something out of my control. I met with the nurse, and she made me put myself into a very vulnerable position as she prodded me with swabs and took photos. She offered me drugs to prevent HIV, and all sorts of STDs. During the entire procedure, she showed no emotion and slight annoyance. I couldn’t speak.

At about 5 am, I finally got to go home. I hardly slept. I didn’t go to class, for the Baylor Police told me that it didn’t matter if I skipped class/missed any exams or quizzes, for I could take them later. Unfortunately, I believed them and missed two exams. Classes that I would soon fail because of this false information. Classes that made me change my major from Biology to Business because my GPA had become too low.

I did my best to continue on with the semester, but thanks to panic attacks, and sleepless nights, my school performance suffered.

The emails from the Police and case workers started to become fewer and fewer, but by that January I received an email that changed everything. A police officer emailed me to say that there wasn’t enough evidence to proceed with the case. I was extremely distressed, thinking that all the emotional hardship had been for nothing, and that someone might get hurt. I convinced myself further that it must have been my fault; I must have answered their questions incorrectly, or that I got to the hospital too late.

I moved on with my life. I focused on school, found better friends than the ones who led me into the party scene, and started a relationship with God.

However, by March, something pressed me to go over to the Police Station after months of no communication, and demand answers. I walked in to the station, and asked to speak with one of the officers on my case. I explained the email that I received a few months back. They replied with confusion that they have no recollection of sending that email to me, and that it was a mistake. See, that email was meant for someone else. So after all the time I spent getting closure, and thinking that it was meant to be, I was smacked in the face with this news. My case was still active. I left the station defeated, knowing that it wasn’t over.

Months passed, and I started my Sophomore year. I still had the effects of PTSD, and still hadn’t come to accept what truly happened. I started to go into a deep depression, especially in October as the one year anniversary approached. A wave of the depression and anxiety hit so hard, that I considered dropping out of school. I hadn’t been sleeping for days, and had started cutting myself when the pain was intense. I was suicidal. I got taken to the hospital. My grades suffered. I was cycling.

I found the counselor who I still see on a weekly basis, and she helped me identify what was going through my head. I’ve made great progress with her help these past two years. She not only diagnosed me with PTSD and anxiety, but found that I am bipolar type 1. This explained a lot. Why I went through waves of depression, and had waves of high moods where everything seemed to make sense. It seems now that fall will always be a trigger for me, and where I cycle into depression.

I focused on therapy as more months passed, not hearing any progress from my case. I was okay with that. I made myself believe that it was not helpful to worry about something that is still “pending”.

However, this past summer before my junior year, the case with Sam Ukwauchu occured that caused an outbreak of anger, confusion, and in my case, a panic attack. The victim had been in the Baylor survivor’s support group that I had attended, so I knew exactly what happened. We both had very similar stories- both raped on Homecoming by guys who we barely knew, both struggling to trust people to let them help us. The only difference was that she had the courage to let the media broadcast this story while I stayed comfortably silent. I commend her and am so proud of what she has done. She was angry, rightfully so, and did something about it so other individuals might become more aware of this crime.

After hearing this story come out, I decided to email my case manager to ask for an update. To no surprise, she said that my case was still pending. After two years.

This journey has not been easy. It has challenged me in every way possible. I thankfully finally found an amazing support system whom encourages me every single day to keep going. I still severely struggle with depression, anxiety, and PTSD, but I’ve found the help that I needed.

With everything that has happened in these past six months with Baylor in the news, it has inspired me to finally share my story publicly. A story that I feel so uncomfortable and vulnerable in sharing with people who I’m not particularly close to. (I honestly am shaking right now as the post is coming to a close).

I do wish that the Title IX office had existed when I was raped. I believe that it would have helped me a great deal in 2013, regarding supporting me with aid in schoolwork. But I can’t spend too much time thinking about that. All I’ve got is tomorrow.

So for anyone who is reading this, I want to close with this: Sexual Assault will never be the survivor’s fault. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been drinking, doing drugs, or dressing a certain way. It doesn’t matter if it’s someone who know, someone who you are in a relationship with, or a stranger. It doesn’t matter if you flirted back, if you stayed out too late, or you looked like you wanted it. YOU are not forcing yourself on the rapist. YOU are not to blame. Please remember that. You are valued.

You are a child of God. Never forget that. But also never forget that evil comes from the evil one. He trembles when he hears Christ’s name.

More and more people are coming to believe that demons may possess those who are sexually assaulted. I have no idea if that’s true or not. But I hope you do some research. Remember, satan wants you to hurt and doubt. Do not let him win.

As for Baylor, it’s obvious the person who raped you was not encouraged by the culture on campus that football players are above the law. The Board of Regents is using this fraudulent Pepper Hamilton report, that was supposedly given orally, by the way, to blame a few so as to take the scrutiny off of Baylor as a whole. Do not let them win, either. The football program is part of the problem. It is not all of the problem.

Thanks for sharing this, Cailin. You are beautiful, inside and out, through and through. You said it so well: you ARE valued. Your story will help others heal, and it will also help Baylor improve its system. Well said, my dear.

Hi Cailin, I don’t know you but a friend posted the link to your story and I cried reading it. The way Baylor and the Waco PD handled my rape in 2013 at Baylor was almost identical. I finally got justice through the Title IX office this year and hope you are able to as well. Thank you for sharing your story. Praying for strength, peace, healing and justice for you. You have gotten this far. You are resilient.

Thank you so much for sharing that. Your comment just immediately gave me hope. Thank you for reporting yours so one more assaulter doesn’t take something so precious from another individual. Thank you for being so brave and courageous. And thank you for all of those words.

Thank-you for your courage in sharing your story, Cailin. I believe you and I believe that your bravery will inspire other survivors to come forward to get the help they need.

If your case is still unresolved, you can still get help from the Title IX office. It is never too late to ask them for help, and they may be able to help move things forward with the police. We are with you.

Oh my dear Cailin, I am so sorry that you had to go through this. Thank you for sharing your story, that took a lot of courage!!!!! I pray that you will get a resolution this year through the Title IX office. I am so thankful that you are leaning on God as that is the only thing that will bring you through this (I do know this from experience). I love you!!!!

What incredible courage you have, Cailin. My sincere condolences to you for all that you have endured. Your story reminds me of the apostle Paul in that you have been afflicted but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed. May God bless you and keep you, Cailin. Holding you in prayer today.

Im sorry but I’m not sorry, I think you are mistaken “rape” for a poorly made decision and inability to move. the decision to become so blackout and decision of what to vs what not to wear IS your fault. I do apologize for your situation and am glad you are doing better, but your situation was all way too avoidable. My mother was physically beaten against her will from an attack and then raped, not a party where she made the conscious decision to drink till control was lost. Yes, their is blame on the boy for being drunk but there is also blame on yourself, you treat small remarks made by people during the process out as the most painful victimizing and hurtful comments and claim it as PTSD?! How dare you, how dare you dumb down serious conditions and says you are not a victim of them because you can come to grips with a mistake you did have part in because it cost you your virginity and made you feel ashamed. You are NOT a victim, you are a college girl who is so afraid of being judged by family, friends, and peers that you appear foolish to actual victims and play out the role. You have lied so much to yourself that you now believe it.

I truly am sorry you feel this way. But you are so completely wrong. I am a victim. My attacker was sober and knew exactly what he was doing. You need to realize that saying “no”, even if it is just once, means that the other party has zero permission to take things further. To do so is the definition of rape. So yes, I was. And how dare you claim at the end of you unjustified comment that I am “so afraid of being judged”. If I was, I wouldn’t have written this post to begin with. See, it’s people like you who need to read blogs and articles like mine to become educated on what sexual assault really is. I will state again that it is NOT my fault. The attacker has complete control and a conscientious thought process on the ability to decide if they are to become a rapist or move on. That being said, the factors of drinking or how one is dressed has no matter in the fault that lies with the attacker. You are so misguided, and I encourage you to have a little bit more sympathy the next time you encounter a person who has been raped. You have no idea what they go through, and for you to horrendously comment is completely petty and pathetic on your part.

This comment is wholly inappropriate and unkind, Stanley. Whether a woman is drunk or not has no bearing on whether she was forced to have sex against her will. That’s a legal question, not an “in your opinion” issue. I am very sorry that your mother was also victimized by a rapist. The two situations are quite different, but they have in common that the victims were forced to do something they did not want to do, and that they suffered greatly because of it. If you want to continue to push this inaccurate and hurtful narrative, I suggest you find another place in which to do it. Stop attacking a young girl when she did no wrong.

You don’t have any permission, or right to speak to Cailin in that manner. You don’t even deserve a response from her.

You really have some big brass ones, taking the time tell a rape victim that it was her fault. How dare you? How could you possibly dare? Have you been raped before? Did you whole heartedly apologize for someone else’s voluntary action to take your own dignity (against your wishes) and treat it like trash? Please come back and tell us how that went afterward. Please tell us how the panic attacks you suffered and all the different manifested broken trust and anxiety was all your fault. Please enlighten us on how it was completely in your control and how you dealt with it. Please. We’re dying to know. We’d love to hear about it.

You clearly lack an empathy for people who’ve been manipulated. You also lack an understanding of the very real presence of the different types of mental disorders among people and where they can come from.

No matter what the circumstances are, no one. Absolutely NO ONE, is at fault for having their virginity taken from them against their will. And even IF something like this were a person’s fault, (which it’s absolutely NOT THEIR FAULT in any way), how are your words helpful? They don’t bring life. Has shame or condemnation ever helped anyone heal in the history of ever?

I really wish you had balls to say that to her in person, because I’m completely willing to bet that you don’t. You’d never say that to a victim in person. Deep down, somewhere under your skin, I believe you have a heart. Please go find it again and take care of it, for your sake.

And please don’t even dare replying to this thread again, you aren’t worth Cailin’s time.

Cailin,

He doesn’t deserve your time, thoughts or attention.

We have so much respect for you. We’re sorry, so incredibly sorry. It’s not your fault. You’re precious. You’re strong. You’re a holy daughter of the living King Jesus. And you’re known by Him. Thank you for sharing, for your sake and for the sake of others in danger. God bless you sister. May He continue to make His face shine upon you!

Cailin, I’m so proud of you! What a brave act this post is; your voice and words are powerful things! May they catch fire and grow! You’ve been in my thoughts and prayers often lately. I pray for peace and continued healing. Your sweet spirit is a light to everyone who meets you. I’m privileged to know you!

Hey Cailin! It took tremendous courage, as everyone has noted, to hit that ‘publish’ button. Well done, Courageous! ‘How will people think of me now?’ might have been running through your head, but we followers of Christ know that the evil event does not define your identity. What the Evil One intended to use to destroy you, God grabbed and said “Not to one of mine!” We love your family and, again, sharing your story will encourage others to bring the darkness that shadows them into the light.

We have some mutual friends and I was also part of the interview project you are doing. I was sexually assaulted in spring 2013 at my high school and had a similar experience to you. I just want to tell you how much I respect you for posting this and pursuing your case.

Cailin, I read your blog Nd let me say I too think you are a brave young woman. Keep fighting for your rights. You did nothing wrong. Irregardless of how you were dressed, or how much you had to drink, no one has the right to take advantage of you. Shame on the Baylor PD for treating you like the criminal. Also how dare your professors not give you a chance to make up what you missed. I will be thinking of you and wishing you all the best.

As a Baylor graduate and the father of a daughter, your blog was just crushing for me to read. I wish that there were some way to either remove all the pain you have suffered, or hit a reset button. No one should have to endure what you have been through. My prayers go up for you, and I want to praise you for your bravery and strong spirit. I just do not know what else to say after reading your account except, “I am so sorry this happened.”
Please stay brave, and please live life fearlessly.

I’m so sorry to read this. You are so brave to write it. I have lots of questions, if you can answer. How large is the Baylor Survivor’s Support Group that you mentioned? Two years seems too long for your case to be simply just pending. What progress has been made in that time? Has there been an internal hearing? Is there an investigator investigating? Is there a prosecutor or grand jury working on it? Of the internal investigations that you may be familiar with from the support group, what percentage end up finding in favor of the victim? Are they felt to be fair hearings? Has your SANE kit been useful? Was it used in your internal hearing, if any? Do you have legal help? Has Baylor taken any action with regard to the perp? Is he still at Baylor? Would you maybe get better help from the Waco police instead of the Baylor police? Are you able to find out if the perp has been accused before, or since? Have you spoken with District Attorney Hilary Laborde (she has successfully prosecuted some of the recent cases)?

Cailin thank you for sharing your story I know how hard it was I was sexually molested as a child I’m now 52 I spent years not dealing with it and used drugs and alchohol to cover it up 9 years ago I got sober and started sharing about my experience and I can tell you the more I’ve shared about it the less of a hold it has one me keep doing what you are doing and God will heal you
Thank you again for sharing

Precious Cailin, if you ever need a Spiritual Retreat to get away, unplug from technology, spend some quiet time with the Lord, relax in the sun by the ocean, be pampered, or have some space – you are always welcome here. Huge Hugs!

I was raped too by a stalker.
This is how it happened.
When I was 16, In high school there was this one guy, 19 years old,who lived next door to me.His name was Willy. I use to observe that every time I went out of my house, Wily would make it obvious that he was staring at me through his window. He would hold up his curtains and just looked out towards me. Even when I saw him doing it, he’d never try to hide the fact that he is watching me.We all knew that Wily had had a lot of sexual partners; being a drug runner for a gang, he was into the nasty life of gangs, so naturally whenever I see him staring, it creeps me out because It was easy to predict what his intentions were. My parents on the other hand didn’t mind Wily, everyone in the neighbor thought he was just one of those runners that had no bite . That he just got into the gang for protection and for the sex life, and that he himself was not really a terrible guy, just some poor teen trying to find his way in life. I sadly had that believe too some where at the back of my mind,because we had lived next to each other for 6 years and I haven’t really seen or heard of him doing anything bad, like murder or rape. Then that fateful day came, it was the week my niece and her parents came over to stay with us. One evening at around 5pm, my niece, 5 year old, asked me about candies, while telling her about candies, I suggested also to her parents, that if they were ok with it, I’d like to take my niece to the nearby candy shop and get her some. They agreed, and we left. As we were returning,dusk was upon us,twilight was slowly fading into the night. The candy shop was about 500 meters from our home. The road at that time of the day was usually empty,as many of the folks like to be at home with their TV volumes up to catch the evening news. I was so busy talking with my niece, I had not realized that Willy had walked up right behind me. It was when he held me and shoved a knife just above my right hip area that I noticed him. He pressed the knife firmly into me,it drew a little blood. He said scream and I will slice the kid’s throat. I was actually scared then. My niece, poor darling, didn’t realize the situation. She was too happy with her candies, she must have thought a friend had walked up to us and was hugging me. He then told me and my niece to walk with him to a dark abandoned building that stood near the road. When we got there he told me to tell my niece that “I just needed to go see uncle Willy for a few minutes and would be back” and that she just had to sit there on what used to be the porch of the building and wait. She happily did. Wily took me into the building then he pressed the knife at my throat and ordered me to remove my jeans and panties. I had never been with a men before so the experience was painful. It didn’t last that long but it felt like it went on forever. After Willy had his way with me, he told me never to tell anyone, and that I can now go back, take my niece and go home. When I arrived home, I told my niece to run up to meet her parents inside the house as I went to the back and showered thoroughly. I have never told anyone to this day. It made me burn so much within because he had raped me and stolen my virginity, he had taken something that I can never have again or give to the person I love. I had so much hate growing up. I began drinking I was broken inside. I was too proud to tell anyone I was raped that it hurt me psychologically. Wily never touched me again because after that incident I was more cautious and I never walked alone on seemingly deserted roads again. I am now married with a loving husband, and have four beautiful kids. I wish I could have given my husband my innocence that Wily stole. He assumed I lost it when I was probably drunk and wild. He doesn’t know why I had drank so much growing up and he never asked. He simply says my past is gone it’s not worth knowing. He has been my pillar of strength. He helped me find my way again. When I learnt recently from my parents,who still live in that same part of the state, that Wily ended up infecting himself with HIV and died in a sad state. I went to his funeral to see what happened to the man who stole my innocence. He had lost so much weight and he looked sad in that grim state of death. Karma and finally caught up with him. I couldn’t help but pity him then, and that was when I was finally able to forgive him for what he did to me.

Thank you so much for having the remarkable strength and courage to share this truth with me. I sincerely apologize for the delay in seeing your comment; there was a problem with my account receiving notifications, and so I am finally reading your incredible story. You, Jennifer, are an amazing example of what determination looks like. It takes unimaginable power to keep a trauma like this to yourself for a period of time, and for you to have held this as your secret for so long- and finally speak out now- that is truly amazing. I cannot thank you for shining in your strength. It takes a copious amount of vulnerability to do such that. As you know, taking that first step in forgiveness is hard. Sometimes unimaginable. But you did it. And it truly is an everyday choice to forgive. I will be thinking of you, and your story, and wish you the healing that you continue to deserve. You are a survivor.